


First Times

by Naem (MistytpedNaem)



Series: De Killer's Youth [4]
Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: F/M, Humor, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistytpedNaem/pseuds/Naem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, thank goodness. He's not unconscious, he's just dead.<br/>...<i>wait.</i>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Times

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for a brief description of murder.

Necessary gear, check. Swiss army knife, check. Cards, check. Shelly de Killer was currently in the process of triple-checking every single possible detail in preparation for his big day, his great debut – his first time working on his own. He even made sure to perfect the less necessary details, having ironed his clothes and shined his shoes countless times over the past week.

But this was it. He was ready.

... Ready to check everything for a _fourth_ time. It couldn’t hurt, after all.

***

Sunshine Theatre was the place, Guy E. Rellvant was the target, and 6:00 PM was the time this drab play would finally end; Shelly found that reciting this to himself helped him stay focused. The time came and he immersed into the crowd, making his way backstage mostly undetected. “Mostly” because a blonde young lady almost lashed out at him before he insistently reassured her that he was there to wash the theatre’s windows.

Just a minor bump in the road. That was all. Nothing to worry about.

It was a pity that his heartbeat refused to listen to reason.

Getting into the target’s dressing room and immobilising him posed no problem. This wasn’t as hard as he was afraid it would be, no; even wrapping his hands around the man’s neck and impeding him from breathing was almost effortless, completely so in a psychological level. He only froze in panic when the blonde from before burst into the room with a squeaky _“Relly-poo!”_

He thought any intruders would at least have the decency to knock on the door first.

The lady blinked, slowly, watching silently as the stranger released his grip on Guy’s neck and the poor man dropped to the floor. “... Did he faint?”

“Close the door” was the first sentence out of his mouth, one that he would have much preferred to have kept inside, or, at least, pronounced a little more calmly. The lady complied in a daze.

The silence that followed was harshly broken by her loud “Well?!”

He was not going to be able to finish his job now. He hoped his mentor wouldn’t... oh, why even consider the possibility? He would know. He _always_ knew, somehow. Shelly took a deep breath, more in an attempt to keep himself calm than anything else. “I-I will check his pulse, miss.” He kneeled down, and thankfully for his nerves, he was unable to see the girl’s eyes fixed on his bottom.

“Oh, thank _goodness_ ,” he sighed, earning an expectant smile from his observer. “He’s not unconscious, he’s just dead.” Where did her smile go?

Oh.

 _Oh._ He said it out loud, didn’t he?

The lady’s shriek was silenced when Shelly stumbled up and awkwardly covered her mouth, mumbling stiff comforting remarks and “sh”s that just barely dissipated her frantic sobbing of _“RELLY-POOOOOO.”_

“There, there...” He was not prepared to talk to people. Not like this. “W-What’s your name?”

She sniffled. “I’m Wendy...”

“Wendy... Wendy. Listen, Wendy...”

“What were you doing when I came here?!” she interrupted.

“I-I...” _Thinkofsomethingthinkofsomethingthinkofsomething._ “I was giving Mr. Rellvant a cardiac massage.” He closed his eyes in strained grief and hoped that the lady didn’t have the slightest bit of medical knowledge. “Alas, I was too late. His heart failure was irreversible.” The autopsy report would easily dismantle such a lie, but he doubted that this Wendy would ever see it.

“... How do you know this stuff?” Her glare turned colder by the second.

“I’m a doctor.”

“You said you were here to wash windows.”

“A-And I was.” He sighed. “It is getting harder to find work these days, you see, and I find myself having to do additional jobs on the side...”  
He must have been convincing, because Wendy’s glare disappeared and her lips now trembled, overwhelmed with emotion. “You poor thing! I see where you’re coming from, you know, we actors don’t really have a stable job either but really it’s all the public’s fault! They have no appreciation for us, if only they’d just give us the respect we deserve we’d get more recognition and a better pay! Oh, I should have known it would have turned out like this, back when I was still in college...”

Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice that Shelly’s ears were completely deaf to her rant. He _needed_ to escape.

“... And he said I’m unbearable and I’d be alone by the time I was on my sixties, do you believe it?! Anyway, what’s your name, hot stuff?”

His ears decided to ignore Wendy’s last two words as well, presumably to keep their owner from dying of a cardiac arrest himself. “Oh, I’m John...” _No. No, he said I needed to stop this._ “... nnnnnathan... Dover.”

“Ohh! And what a charming accent you have!”

Really, he was glad she seemed to have forgotten about the dead body on the floor, but he would like to wrap this up a tad more cleanly.

“W-Well! Wendy...” Another deep breath. He hoped this would work; otherwise, he would be the greatest failure in the history of his name. He was pretty sure of that, anyway. “... Wendy. You have witnessed the death of a great man. You do realise the importance of this, yes?”

“Yes!” She nodded, still charmed by the stranger.

“You will tell everyone else...” Something that would not incriminate him and especially not _her_... “... That you were too late to save him. And nothing else. Do you understand?” As he spoke, he stealthily grabbed a card from his back pocket and let it drop beside the body.

“... I can’t say you were here first? Why not?”

“B-Because...” She seemed to like him quite a bit, and that was the only factor that led him to try this with such a level of confidence: “I am not a doctor or a window washer.” He paused briefly, judging her reaction before continuing. “I am... a secret agent.”

 _Dear Lord, LET THIS WORK._

Was she swooning? Goodness, she was swooning. “Ooh!” The way she waved her hands made him feel more uncomfortable than anything else up until now. “Alright, ‘James Bond’, my lips are sealed!”

He restrained a sigh of relief.

“That is, as long as... you seal them yourself, hot stuff.”

“What do you—MMF!” Before he could finish his question, Wendy’s tongue was already doing some very bewildering things to his. It didn’t feel bad at all, but he had to wonder about the sudden, even larger increase in heart rate; his heart straining itself like this could hinder his ideal escape, and besides, he did not feel quite at ease with the rush of blood to certain parts of his body that he had always preferred to ignore.

Their goodbye was rather awkward, at least on Shelly’s behalf – Wendy had no apparent problem with it. As he left the theatre, still focused on his mental list of objectives to make sure absolutely nothing had been forgotten, he deeply hoped that his mentor would never, ever hear of this.

It was nothing but wishful thinking. He _always_ knew.

**Author's Note:**

> ... This will be used as blackmail material against me in the future, and yet I want to see it drawn. Why.


End file.
